{"id":197,"date":"2014-11-03T16:00:19","date_gmt":"2014-11-03T22:00:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/?p=197"},"modified":"2017-03-11T10:22:53","modified_gmt":"2017-03-11T16:22:53","slug":"fiction-stingray-by-peter-wood","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/?p=197","title":{"rendered":"Fiction: “Stingray” by Peter Wood"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"stingray\"<\/a>T<\/strong>he stingray swam out of the pile of leaves<\/strong> and whipped its barbed tail around Dale\u2019s ankle. Dale dropped the rake and fell into a puddle of salt water.<\/p>\n

The trouble was, he was hundreds of miles from the ocean.<\/p>\n

Dale jumped up and noticed a thin tear at the bottom of his jeans where the stingray\u2019s tail had grabbed him. He kicked the leaves. No sign of the creature.<\/p>\n

The kitchen door creaked open. Lisa, his wife, stepped out onto the back stoop. \u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA stingray got me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lisa put her hands on her hips. \u201cLast time I checked, stingrays don\u2019t live in the Blue Ridge Mountains, Dale.\u201d<\/p>\n

Zeke, their cat, bounded up to their gazebo. It hissed at Dale before slicing the screen that Dale had just stapled back in place minutes before.<\/p>\n

\u201cHaven\u2019t you fixed that screen yet?\u201d Lisa asked.<\/p>\n

He watched the cat slip though the screen. \u201cI just did. Zeke tore it open.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t blame the cat, honey.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dale pointed to the ground. \u201cThere\u2019s salt water down here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lisa sighed. \u201cIf you don\u2019t want to do yard work, just say so.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay. I don\u2019t feel like raking the leaves.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust rake the leaves, honey.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dale lifted up his leg. \u201cLook at what that bastard did to my pants.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lisa rolled her eyes. \u201cYou got stuck in a briar. Look, I\u2019m going out to run some errands. I\u2019ll be back around dinner. Can you fire up the grill tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n

Dale glanced at the yard full of leaves and the charcoal grill that still needed to be scoured. Another weekend would be sucked away by chores. \u201cSure, honey.\u201d<\/p>\n

She returned inside.<\/p>\n

Zeke left the gazebo and strutted into the yard. He meowed loudly and picked up something in his mouth.<\/p>\n

It was a fish, still wriggling. Zeke darted behind the Azalea bushes with his prize.<\/p>\n

The leaf pile sloshed back and forth. It was getting smaller. The leaves were slipping through something. He raked a clump of leaves into the air. Most landed in the yard, but a few just disappeared.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the hell?\u201d a voice shouted from nowhere.<\/p>\n

A man crawled into the yard from wherever the leaves had gone. He wore shorts, topsiders, and a flowery shirt. He squinted at Dale. \u201cAfternoon. I\u2019m Paul.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dale wasn\u2019t sure what to say to a man that had just materialized. \u201cI\u2019m Dale,\u201d he said at last.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, this is where those leaves are coming from. Where the hell am I?\u201d Paul asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cNorth Carolina.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSame here,\u201d Paul muttered. He surveyed the mountains. He pulled a flask from his shorts pocket and took a long sip. \u201cIf I wasn\u2019t drinking, I\u2019d be having a hard time dealing with this. Where exactly am I? Asheville?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBoone.\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul laughed. \u201cLong way from Okracoke.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Island of Okracoke was on the opposite side of the state. \u201cMaybe it\u2019s some sort of dimensional vortex,\u201d Dale said.<\/p>\n

Paul shrugged. \u201cDoesn\u2019t matter much to me. This will all seem like a dream tomorrow. Besides, the wife is hounding me to fix our deck. It\u2019s two hours by ferry to the hardware store.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you need from the store?\u201d Dale asked. He couldn\u2019t believe he was discussing home maintenance with a man who had teleported four hundred miles.<\/p>\n

Paul swayed slightly. \u201cAren\u2019t you the friendly apparition? I need a hammer, a box of nails, some plywood, some two-by-fours\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Dale felt a kindred connection to another husband who had fallen hopelessly behind on household tasks. He walked to the shed and flung open the doors. \u201cTake what you need.\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul gawked at the shelves of supplies and the stack of lumber as if he had been ushered inside the gates of El Dorado. \u201cReally?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I pay you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo worries.\u201d Dale heard the call of seagulls from the vortex and the lulling of the crashing waves. He wished there was a way for him to spend more time at the beach. It had been a couple of years.<\/p>\n

Paul held a hammer and stared at the mountains. \u201cY\u2019all sure have some beautiful country out here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dale grinned at Paul. \u201cHow about if you rake leaves and I\u2019ll lug whatever you need to your deck.\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul took another sip from the flask and picked up the rake.<\/p>\n

Dale grabbed a few two-by-fours. \u201cThese okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dale found his dusty fishing pole and tackle box crammed behind a bag of grass seed. He couldn\u2019t remember the last time he had fished. He pushed both through the hole.<\/p>\n

He picked up a starfish. It was dry. The tide must be going out. The perfect time to beachcomb. Why should he be in a hurry to get back to Boone? He walked into the house and threw some clothes and snacks and his mobile phone into a knapsack. He\u2019d find a cheap beach motel.<\/p>\n

He scrawled a quick note to Lisa. She could crawl through the hole or drive out to Okracocke. Either way, she\u2019d have a vacation.<\/p>\n

After he fed the last of the lumber through the hole, he called out to Paul. \u201cYou ever have problems with stingrays?\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul was whistling a Bruce Springsteen tune. \u201cNope. They leave folks alone for the most part. If one grabs you, it\u2019s just the ocean\u2019s way of having you pay attention.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dale laughed. \u201cIt got my attention.\u201d In an hour he\u2019d be casting a line into the waves to catch his dinner.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

\"PeterWood\"<\/a>Peter Wood<\/strong> is an attorney in Raleigh, North Carolina, where he lives with his patient wife and surly cat. His stories have been published in Daily Science Fiction<\/i>, Asimov’s<\/i>, and Stupefying Stories<\/i>. His first appearance in our pages was \u201cMission Accomplished\u201d in the August 2012<\/a> issue, his most recent appearance was \u201cSpecial Delivery\u201d in SHOWCASE #12<\/a>, and his next appearance will be \u201cThe Aliens Went Down to Georgia\u201d in the next issue of Stupefying Stories<\/i>, which is scheduled to be released Any Minute Now.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The stingray swam out of the pile of leaves and whipped its barbed tail around Dale\u2019s ankle. Dale dropped the rake and fell into a puddle of salt water. The trouble was, he was hundreds of miles from the ocean<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":199,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[3],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/197"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=197"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/197\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":236,"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/197\/revisions\/236"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/199"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=197"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=197"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=197"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}